


Fallen Soldiers: Orion

by agiftedmind



Series: The Way of the World [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: I feel bad about their future fates, Look I wrote some fluff, Oh well THE STORY MUST GO ON, Opps I ship them, Shipping If You Squint, worldbuilding things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-25 06:03:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6183502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agiftedmind/pseuds/agiftedmind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set way back in The Past of 'The way of your World.' </p><p>A somewhat New to the role Prime enjoys some quiet time and reflects, while his companion cuddles. Later, memories are shared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Please be aware this story contains Spoilers for upcoming characters/roles/themes in ‘The way of your World’.**  The only thing I own is Windsheer, and she’s supposed to mimic SG!Starscream’s colours.
> 
> Some terms you’ll find in here are the archaic versions of present-day terms used within the 'verse.  I have a theme song for these four too. It’s A Flame for Freedom by Dragonforce.
> 
> For the curious: 'Orion' looks like his Prime version, and Gigatron is more or less RID 2001 Megatron.

**Cybertron Empire, about 4.8 teravorns ago (45+mya)**

The Prime was certain of a number of things: The recent riots had ended, and the Destrons - no, the Warbuilds seemed placated, even if Gigatron was not. They all knew it was a quick fix at _best_ , one that would need a long-term solution, and soon. They still had the support of the (still so young) Lord of the Skies and her Seekers -Leitandi. The colonies were no longer in turmoil either. It wouldn't have mattered if they were; The Prime would still have come to this one. He thought it was called Animatros.

A pretty planet where what one's build was didn't matter.

The Prime had chosen it to get away from it all. A breather he –they- desperately needed.

The Senate... The Senate was unhappy. The Prime did not care. Let them whinge and wheedle, bow and scrape and play their little power games. It _wouldn't_ change what he was trying to do. What he _was_ doing. He wasn't going to sit and do nothing. He wasn't going to be a figurehead or let the people of his Empire suffer.

 _Or_ , he thought ruefully as he stared at the black-purple-red form of Gigatron rather possessively half-sprawled over him. _Be a berth_.

The Senate would have fits if they knew. Ratbat would be calling for their heads. Alpha Trion would be furious. Beta would think it cute.

The blue-red-white chuckled darkly. Of course most'd have fits. It wasn't seemly for the Prime to be anything other than pristinely Untouched by another, even their own Protector. At the same time, it was _expected_ the Protector be sullied and touched not only there, but in the spark; all in the name of 'protecting' the Prime, of course. He knew for a fact Gigatron was as Untouched as he. Yet here he was, half under one purring Terror of Iacon. It wasn't as disconcerting or as worrying as it should be. It felt _right_.

He wanted more than the cuddles.

Hmm. Perhaps there was truth in the old tales Devcon was fond of.

A glance to the Imperial Guard led the Prime to reset his optics. Windsheer was curled in Devcon's lap, the bulkier not seem to notice or care he was in possession of a lap full of white-red Seeker Matria. She was young – no Trine, no Harem, yet she'd already claimed her Sparkright. Probably not much younger than the Prime himself had been when he'd claimed his own Sparkright.

No. Not claimed. Had it - shining and Singing and seeking to nest against his Spark and offer its wisdom - thrust upon him one megacycle when he'd wandered too far from the 'docks and out towards the ganglands of Novus Heights. It'd been a confusing haze of fear and terror and Rightness and Gigatron's growled ' _I did not find you only for you to get yourself killed. MOVE_.'

He'd seen the power of Warbuilds. Of Gigatron. Of what a 'thug' with superior firepower could do.

And Gigatron could _fly_.

Something stirred in the depths of his processor, then settled with a _rightness_ in his Spark. "What...?"

"Prime?" Ice-silver optics blinked online as Gigatron stirred with what could pass as a yawn.

"Off." He might have been faintly amused at the situation; he'd certainly gone for recharge alone, only to wake to a cuddling Gigatron and an amused Devcon, but now his amusement was on the wane. Lord Protector he might be, the older mech was still dangerous. And heavy. More _heavy_ than dangerous. "Now."

Gigatron simply arched an opticridge and promptly made himself more comfortable, much to the Prime's shock. It didn't stop arms from wrapping around the Protector's waist. Gigatron smirked, fangs showing, EM-field bleeding contentment. "Mmm. Later."

"It's not up for negation."

"Neither is this, Prime."

"Let him, Orion," Devcon said, one Primus-blue optic cracked open. "No harm in it. It's settled you both. Like Windy on me settles her royalself."

"Royalself?" Orion blinked.

Devcon smirked. "She's smart. She knows she's good, and she can be a pain the aft like all newly adults."

"She needs her Harem to ride herd on," Gigatron growled. "Everyone knows Leitandi mechs are headless things without a Matria."

"Is that... true?" Orion boggled. The Seeker - Leitandi, he _needed_ to remember Windsheer called them that- mechs he'd met had been normal...?

"Yea. Leitandi are a weird bunch. The mechs _need_ a Matria to lead them, and a Matria _needs_ her mechs to ride herd on. It's like with Trines. They need it, or they go loopy real fast," Devcon shrugged. "Windy can explain better than me."

Orion nodded. "I'll ask her, then."

Of them all, Devcon was the oldest. He was The Imperial Guard - the _Vörður_ as Windsheer called him- the one who anchored the otherwise turbulent personalities and roles of Lord of the Skies, Lord Protector, Prime.

Rumour claimed he was Primus-Kindled, not Allspark- or Spark-Kindled. Warbuilds and Seekers Spark-Kindled and the rest generally did not; they claimed it was perverse. It was a divide starting to grow, and it _needed_ to be fixed.

"... Very well." Orion couldn't deny the Rightness having all of them in a room brought. The Senate would be so very, very inflamed.

 _Let them_ , he thought. _Let them inflame themselves. It won't change anything._

The Senate could -would- do nothing, of that Orion was certain.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some very dead mechs, they talk an awful lot. Worldbuilding's good too, yea?
> 
> I'm not doing the Everyone Has a Unique Name. I find it rather impractical personally, and Cybertronian is a language with a lot of ways of saying things.

"You seem happy."

"I am, my friend, I _am_ ," Gigatron murmured, ice-silver optics following the antics before them, barely glancing at the bodyguard the Senix-clan had assigned -gifted- him all those vorn ago when they'd found him. "We bonded last megacycle."

"Ah." Sixshot nodded, following the Lord Protector's gaze to where Devcon was attempting to teach Orion some basic defence, to limited success and Windsheer's light, airy laughter. Even the Prime's guards could be seen suppressing snickers. The Prime seemed to be taking it all in good humour himself. "The Senate will throw a fit."

Or twenty, and Sixshot fondly remembered the ones they'd thrown when a Phase-Sixer Destron from the elusive Senix-clan had been formally assigned as a bodyguard.

"Let them," Gigatron's frame shook with ill-hidden laughter. "It's how it _should_ be. Windsheer's _Soaring in Light Above_ , and Devcon _Anchors in Shadows Below_." Gigatron settled back, wings resting easily, freely for the first time since Sixshot had met him. "I almost wish you could hear how the Matrix Sings for us."

Sixshot hrphmed, dipping his head. "I've seen the Temple light up when the Prime visits to _Talk_ with Over Lord."

Talk was pushing it; they both knew the Prime had verbally defenestrated Over Lord more than once.

"It's... different," Gigatron's mouth twisted with a strange emotion, optics locked on Orion as he ended up on his back yet again. "The visual is _nothing_ without the Song."

"Hmph." The bodyguard grunted, crimson optics casting about the Tarn-sponsored dojo for threats while he kept sensors on his charge beside him. Out of the corner of his optics, he spotted Carnivac and Aleeta. He dipped his chin in acknowledgement of the assumed dojo-patrol. "I'll take your word, Lord Protector."

Gigatron laughed, clawed hand clapping the 'Sixer on the shoulder. "Come now. I can do a memory share. Perhaps the Prime and Sky-Lord, too?"

The fourth Spark-Kindled, rarest Warbuild-type, and pride of the Senix-clan blinked, mouth dropping open a fraction as all sense of professionalism fled for a klik. "You would-"

"Of course. You _are_ trustworthy," Gigatron pushed off the wall, staring at one he called a friend before he walked towards his Prime, back straight, wings half flared, possessive like all newly bonded. Sixshot followed after him. "Orion?"

"Ah-" Orion's sudden shift in attention cost him what little upper hand he'd gained, and he was flat on his face, arm wrenched behind his back in a painfully effective pin, Devcon chuckling, Gigatron outright laughing, and Windsheer bouncing up and down that it was her turn to pretty please spar with Devcon.

"Guess you'll always need the guards," Devcon let him up, and Gigatron offered a hand. The Guard turned to the Matria, smirking. "Sure. Could use the workout."

Windsheer's smile was wide enough for her double fangs to be seen, optics glinting. "Oh _bring it on_ , Devvy."

"I suppose..." Orion said as he was hauled up, trying his hardest not to scowl at the thought. Devcon, the Lord Protector, and Sixshot towered over him. Even Windsheer, and she wasn't bristling with weaponry enough to sink a small flightcraft. It wasn't as if he were defenceless-

"Your talents lay _elsewhere_ , my Prime," Gigatron soothed, hand stroking over a shoulder strut.

"I suppose..." He _did_ seem to have a way with words, didn't he?

"Sixshot wishes to know if you'd consent to sharing a memory of the Temple when it Sung for us?"

"Of course," Orion smiled, port offered before Sixshot could do more than blink. He didn't think he should so freely accept this. A glance at the Lord Protector, then Devcon, showed how unconcerned they were. Devcon even turned away, Windsheer practically pouncing on him as the spar began in earnest.

A lick of lip-plating and Sixshot plugged into the port, only tangentially aware Gigatron had plugged into him.

Several kliks later, the memories started.

* * *

The first was a jumbled mess of shapes and images, of gunfire and Protection, of snarled orders to _move_. To stay behind him. Of the Prime freezing at the sight of the destructive force of a Warbuild who'd made a name for himself in Iacon's underworld.

The Lord Protector was carnage incarnate, a seething hurricane of power and battlelust. He spun with the grace of what he was. A Kayuun Kaiju, styled after the beasts from the Dead Zone of the Rust Sea and then made _better_. A true warrior.

The view shifted; Gigatron's impressions of the meeting. Of stalking this weak-framed processor-addled civilian. Of watching him find the Matrix in a junkcrate. Of wandering away from where it was fragging Safe. Following - something. And then diving in to Protect his foolish Prime. Of the Warbuild's frustrated snarls as his Prime was too stupid move and obey what was for his own good.

Of scooping him up – shellshock. His Prime was _shellshocked_. Civilian frames were not designed for war- taking flight into the Ruins that would lead to the Underdark. They'd be safe-

The memory jolted, shifted-

* * *

Light and shadows played eerily over the crumbling ruins as Orion supported himself against a pillar, dry-heaving while Gigatron stood guard in all his energon splattered glory, oversized rifle resting easily at his side, ice-silver optics glowing. Alert, proud. He took his duty seriously.

"There you are, you." A huge blue-white mech said roughly, holding his hands palm up as Gigatron bristled, rifle swinging up at the sudden intrusion on what should have been Their Time. A time to connect, to soothe his Prime.

"That gesture is meaningless." The Protector shoved Orion roughly behind a wing. Orion's safety first, hurt feelings later.

The stranger smirked. "I mean no harm to the Prime or you. I was worried the Senate would get ya first."

"Who are you-" Gigatron threw his arm out. "Stay behind me, Orion."

"Name's Devcon. The Imperial Guard." He tapped his helm; the first thing Gigatron focused on was the Primus-blue optics. "We need to get you both to the Temple."

"Oh. That means-" Orion started, peering around Gigatron's wing, icy-azure optics wide.

"Yea. Ramis Prime is dead. Been so for two megacycles now," a tired, sad smile tugged at Devcon's face as he motioned for them to follow him. "His Protector, too. Assassination. Again."

"And Lord Sky Warp?" Gigatron growled, ignoring the distressed sound from Orion. He knew that once he and Orion were recognised, if Orion died, he'd follow swiftly.

"Fled to Vos to keep himself and his Heir from Senatus' control."

Orion's optics widened in horror. "They would _dare_ -"

"Many times." Devcon's voice was flat, drawn. A lifetime's worth of emotion in it. A near lifetime of ultimately failing one of his functions.

"Then we best be on our way." Gigatron nodded in understanding, hand finding and staying, on his Prime's shoulder as they walked.

* * *

Unbidden, another memory came. Fuzzy, hazy, seen through a sparkling's optics with adult understanding overlaid and shown to someone else. A double memory?

A brown-and-white Seeker whimpered, optics pale, almost lifeless as kind red hands stroked wings and whispered comfort as the rest of the Harem surrounded him.

"Dam?"

"Ah... 'Sheer-" His smile was watery, fragile as he stared at the one-and-a-half vorn sparkling.

"Hug?" Windsheer stood on wobbly legs, toddling unsteadily over.

Her Sire picked her up, hugging her tightly before putting her on his lap. Sky Warp's strong arms wrapped around her, shaking, trembling.

Sky Warp _had_ to hold on. Long enough for Windsheer to claim her Sparkright from him in the sky-races.

But he didn't _want_ to hold on. He wanted to follow the other two. Ramis and Thundertron... his Prime and Protector. He was _their_ Lord of the Skies, and _they_ the reason he'd return to Roost time and time again, invisible jesses they'd held with care and affection.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry-" He whispered, face buried against his creation's helm, turbines spinning in an effort to sooth her whimpers. The flight from Kaon had been fast and rough, the Senate chasing them most of the way. He knew what they'd _done_ , would have done to _him_ , to his _Heir_. It wasn't right. But he knew in his Spark there was another Prime and Protector pair already. A new Age was coming. A Golden Age of fairness for all. "Please-"

"It's fine. We know," One said - Drillbit, his beloved Matria - hands soothing over wings. "Stay until she's ready? Then we'll Fly Free."

Sky Warp nodded, blue optics shuttering against the wash of understanding from the Harem-bond, and the loving EM-fields. Trine, Harem, Flock. He could - would - lead them for just a little longer. Long enough so his Heir claimed her Sparkright.

And then he'd Fly Free.

* * *

The memory changed, blurred, then settled on the inside of the Iacon Temple as Devcon lead them up its steps, Gigatron and Orion walked in lock-step, the Lord Protector's wings flared, high and wide. Intimidation. A threat that only half-mantled when they were inside.

Yet Sixshot didn't need a memory to know Gigatron was still so very, very _dangerous_.

"Priest Over Lord. I have two for the Crystali."

The white Priest nodded to Devcon, sky-blue optics flicking to Orion then Gigatron almost dismissively before swivelling back to the Kayuun. "Ah... You know his kind _aren't_ permitted in there."

"Humour me. Gigatron-"

"The Terror of Iacon has _no_ place within the Temple's Centre." Over Lord interrupted, hand raised, beckoning guards forth.

"Stand them down, Over Lord." Devcon's voice was flat.

Over Lord reluctantly motioned the guards away. "You are old. A mistake was made. His kind _cannot_ be-"

"My kind?" Gigatron whispered, hands fisting and EM-field little more than a razor over goldsilkthread.

One of the attendants nodded. " _Kaiju_."

The word as spat, as if something foul, and the glyphs attached matched.

"The Crystali, please." This time Orion spoke up, voice sweeter than the finest Seeker highgrade, optics narrowed. His face soon set into a determined look. He was young, but not stupid, and the Matrix resonated within his mind, disapproving of the Priests. His hand lay gentle on Gigatron's arm. It wouldn't hold him back, yet it settled the larger. "Please."

Over Lord frowned, yet nodded anyway, beckoning them to follow deeper into the Temple, towards the very heart: The Crystali. "As you wish, _Claimant Prime_."

Gigatron's scowl was thunderous - his EM-field a tight roil of anger to match- by the time they reached the massive crystal cavern. Lit only by torches of white flame, it was impossible to make out the depth of the massive cavern and its hundreds of supporting pillars. Each pillar was carved with a single name in a script neither Prime nor Protector could hope to read.

The walls and floors were covered in fist-sized crystals.

(Not even Sixshot could read it.)

"Are you ready?" the young Prime asked, staring up at his Protector. His only response was a slow nod.

Devcon nodded after a pause, leaning against the entrance, arms crossed, optics daring any of the Priests or attendants to halt things now.

As one, they walked the only clear path to the Central Crystal, hands hovering over it.

It lit up in resplendent glory...

and for them, and Devcon, it Sang.

It was sound and colour, light spilling out in time to the Ethereal Song, lighting the cavern and illuminating the walls, revealing each of the fist-sized crystals to be carved with three names. The Song was ghostly and awe-inspiring. Haunting and sad, happy and jubilant. Welcoming. Forever Welcoming. Pure yet tainted, light yet dark. Outside the memory, Sixshot's optics flared. He could see - hear - how it filled them with love and life, fear and passion, desire and need. Whispered promises and spoke of dire threats.

It was wonder and glory - all eternity before them. Sweet and high, like the chime of the purest Vosian crystal that then swept low. Low and booming as if echoing the deepest mine-shaft before it exploded into the pounding of a warbeat. The spark pounding beat was a thrill. It was war in all its horror and glory. A frantic, whirling, careless grace that spun around the ethereal and slowly they threaded together, melding into an impossibly surreal Song.

It was a two-part harmony and something was missing. The Guard-song and Sky-song, Sixshot realised after a moment. Windsheer was too young then, and Devcon had not plugged in.

Slowly, the song faded the lights shimmering away one by one until a lone pillar remained, before it too faded. Sixshot strained to catch the names he could read-

* * *

_(Logos Prime,_ Helatron _, Buzz Saw._

_Nexus Prime, Zetron, Firecrest._

_Nemesis Prime, Devron, Ransak._

_Nominus, Sabretron, Skyhigh._

_Decima Prime, Nitron, Red Wing._

_Sentinel Prime, Magnatron, Tornado._

_Ramis Prime, Thundertron, Sky Warp.)_

* * *

before they - and the memory faded, leaving him in the here-and-now.

"Intense," Sixshot said while Orion unhooked them carefully. "The Guard-song and Sky-song were missing?"

"It's hardly ours to share," Gigatron huffed, wings twitching, optics narrowed, and Sixshot could not shake the feeling ice-silver was _not_ the Lord Protector's natural optic colour.

Sixshot wisely veered away from the topic. He might have been a Phase-Sixer, but Gigatron was Lord Protector. "I saw some names on the crystals."

"The Primes. Those who came before me, as I shall come before the next Prime to take up the mantle."

Again Sixshot nodded. "Who are the others?"

"The Lord Protectors, and Lords of the Skies," Gigatron answered truthfully.

"Our names also adorn the Crystali, as the Imperial Guards adorn the Pillars. One may have many Triads they watch over before they are recalled to be reborn anew," Orion smiled. It was innocent, naive, trusting - everything an _Untouched_ Prime should be, yet now he was paying attention to it, the Prime's EM-field was every Senator's _nightmare_. It was anything but Untouched. Dark, alluring. Worldly and cunning. Someone who was used to paying attention, who was used to cutting through purple-prose and purpler-tape.

Sixshot laughed. Oh, he was looking forward to the Age they would usher in.

It was going to be _glorious_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all reviews/comments. If there's any questions, I'll do my best to answer them.


End file.
